


Hell

by Willow



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/F, Gift Fic, Secret Slasha, not good fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-12-10
Updated: 2001-12-10
Packaged: 2017-10-02 07:34:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Willow/pseuds/Willow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Faith deals with Buffy's death and resurrection.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hell

**Author's Note:**

> My first time in a secret slasha/fic exchange. Never did get a story back. Set me off fic exchanges ever since. A very early fic, among my first. Definitely not my strongest - melodramatic statements and too many ellipses.

**The Present**

The sheets twisted on the bed, rumpled, stained and crushed. They twisted round Faith's body, cotton chains to hold her fast in her sleep. The dim cell walls would have seemed to waver in the sweltering California Christmas heat, if anyone on Freak Block had been awake.

Along the corridor came muted murmurs and cries, as other denizens of F-block battled their inner demons in the dark.

A methodical clunking brought Faith out of her dreams, startled her hand flew up to defend herself, even as the sheets twisted tighter, keeping her on the bed.

She took a breath, extending her senses, registering the night-shift guard on rounds, trying her best to calm down.

She'd had the dream again.

Running shaky fingers through her hair, she peeled herself out of her covers, to stand shivering in front of the metal sink and mirror on the wall opposite her bed. Even the dark couldn't account for the haunted, pinched features staring back at her from the murky glass.

 

_A fetid pool, dark and sluggish. It's surface hinting at severed limbs and lost faces._

"...Faith !...Help me!"

 

The second Slayer gripped the sides of the basin tighter, feeling the hefty metal strain under her strength, her panic.

She turned on the tap, letting the running water fall over her fingers, ground her, bring her back to cinder-block walls, metal bars, F-block with it's half-demon population, it's amateur dark arts users all crammed together through corrupt politicking and a need to hide the evil truth from the rest of the general populace.

On the top bunk her cell-mate stirred, thrashing in her own hell.

Faith turned her eyes away from the reflection in the mirror. The last thing she needed to see right now was Medusa in her true form, all writhing hair and true black eyes. She washed her face quickly and sat down again, peeling off her soaked t-shirt. The guards would get an eyeful in the morning. But that was better than her not getting any sleep at all.

 

_A golden blonde head sinking beneath the mire, hands reaching out.....pale pink nail polish catching on the light of fiery sparks._

 

The images made her head spin, and she found herself pressing her hands to her eyes trying to make them go away.

It'd been like this ever since she'd seen them together, and seen the aftermath of a night of pain-filled craving and lust.

Something trickled down her face, and Faith realized her nails were biting into her flesh. She was drawing blood.

**Buffy !**

=*=

**42 hrs earlier**

"She slept with Spike."

The four words kept twisting themselves in her mind.

In front of her, the body bag groaned from the treatment it was receiving, clouds of sand and dust puffing out from the leatherette surface. The long bag thudded backwards into the body of her exercise partner, but Faith knew the heavyset woman could take it. In her more human form Medusa looked, and was built like a mac-truck, and could probably take about as much damage.

Right now Faith was grateful for every advantage that left her able to pound the shit out of something. Slaying would have been ideal right about now. Scare some stupid fledglings out of a cozy nest and toy with them for a while. Her knuckles were screaming to slam into undead flesh.

"She" punch, "slept" punch, "with" punch, "Spike." A barrage of blows followed the last word, flowing into a roundhouse kick, as Faith slipped into her old training routine.

She wasn't quite sure why she felt so angry. But words had started spilling out of her mouth as soon as she'd started hitting something. " Little Ms. Goody-Two-Shoes, riding William the Bloody, screaming for him. What's the matter B. Just can't help that addiction for undead dick."

Her movements sped up, disappointment and shock flowing into rage. The punching bag exploded in a shower of powder and plastic.

Frustrated, Faith stared at the tattered skin for a moment, then started pulling at the straps of her gloves with her teeth.

Beside her, Medusa wisely didn't say anything. But the Gorgon's dark eyes were obviously sad, they swirled in guilty green, an upsetting sight for someone who wasn't used to them.

Faith met her eyes easily, "You didn't do it 'Dusa. You didn't do anything, except offer me what I wanted most. It's just the luck that my timing sucked."

But the rage was still there.

A piece of metal paneling buckled as Faith slammed her bare hand onto it. All she'd wanted was to see for herself that B was alive and kicking. Safe. The past few months had been hell thinking her fellow Slayer was dead. Hearing Buffy was back wasn't good enough. It'd felt like a connection between them had been severed, an awareness she hadn't even realized was there until it was gone. And it had itched like hell inside her mind to know B was alive, but not feel her in the same way anymore.

From near the gym's door a guard's voice rang out. "Break it and buy it girls."

Faith ignored him. Right now he was all talk. Everyone in Freak-block knew to avoid her when she was antsy. And the warden would probably rather pay for a few busted walls than raise salaries again, trying to persuade guards to work in this section of the prison.

"I need to take a shower." Faith flung the gloves in a corner and stalked to the showers, knowing that in the mood she was in, she'd have it all to herself. Even if she was in prison, she was still a Slayer. The other prisoners wouldn't want to deal with her.

Soon there was the sound of water falling off her body onto the tiles. It was too rhythmic to be ignored. Faith couldn't help closing her eyes, loosing herself in the sensation of warm water flowing down her skin, soothing the tension away.

She'd been up all night, unable to sleep after the vision.

Something had felt like it wanted to crawl it's way out of her eyes and rip itself out of her mouth at the sight of them. Her throat spasmed at the mental image.

It had taken hours of pacing, trying to manage a semblance of self control until the morning head check, and gym hours.

 

=*=

 

**28 hrs earlier**

"I want to see her again."

Medusa's obsidian eyes swirled with flecks of yellow, the long dark tendrils of her hair moving uneasily in the air behind her.

"That does not seem wise Faith. It upsets you so."

It was five minutes to lights out, just enough time for Medusa to do her mojo in workable light, and have darkness hide the mirror from prying eyes when the seer's power took over.

Faith took in a deep breath. It wasn't her style to explain, or plead, or sometimes even ask. Shouting, and bullying usually did the job well enough, along with a twisted arm or two. It was ironic really, how well her personality worked in prison society as compared to the outside.

"One more time. I need ... to see. I have to be sure." This was important even if she couldn't explain why.

The Gorgon nodded, and started sprinkling powders on the warped mirror. The little bags fit right inside her mattress, secure from any search, and pliable enough not to be felt when she slept. But searches weren't really a problem. The fact that she'd even been slipped her working ingredients was a testament to how easy it was to grease a palm in F-block.

The mirror stirred, it's silvered surface clouding.

"Light's out....."

A night-stick banged against the rails as the guards did their cursory walk before shift change.

Medusa moved back and to the side, keeping just one slim finger on the mirror frame, while Faith crowded in front of it, desperate to see.

 

> Buffy was huddled on her bed, the room draped with crosses and garlic, as if Vampric Armageddon could arrive at any moment. Her shoulders shook with silent sobs, the tears invisible in the dim light of her room. She was whispering.
> 
> "He didn't free me. It wasn't real, it wasn't real. It wasn't real, it wasn't real. It'll never be real."
> 
> She paused curling in on herself. "Just once...only once... to stop the pain...."

 

The picture flickered and went out.

But the connection had been established, for the briefest moment, Faith felt Buffy's despair. The Golden Chosen One wasn't so golden anymore. Buffy felt dark and empty, filled with a need that squeezed at Faith's lungs and made her head swim. And Buffy was lost in it.

 

=*=

**The Present**

_Warm hands were ripped from hers, pulled away into darkness. A fetid pool, dark and sluggish. It's surface hinting at severed limbs and lost faces._

"How do I swim Faith ? Show me how to swim.....Faith ! Help me!"

" B !"

Faith reached out, trying to scramble to the water's edge, to hold on, to help, to do anything...something.

"B !"

Tears were running down her face, she couldn't breathe. She knew this place, she knew these waters. Why couldn't she reach, why couldn't she help?

A golden blonde head sinking beneath the mire, hands reaching out.....pale pink nail polish catching on the light of fiery sparks.

Faith plunged her hands into the blackness, trying to find something, anything that was still warm and alive. Trying to pull free of the shackles that held her back. Shackles that kept her too close to the shore, even though their heavy links disappeared into the dark.

"Buffy !" Faith's voice was frantic. "Buffy, please ! Fight it !"

The waters parted, something rising to the surface.

It had blonde hair, it had pink finger-nail polish, but the bloated, bruised corpse riding on a wave of oily night bore only superficial resemblance to the Golden Slayer.

It opened bloodshot eyes.

 

=*=

 

**The Present**

"No!"

Faith rolled out of bed, barely making it to the steel rimmed toilet before emptying her stomach contents violently into the cool silver bowl.

She'd fallen asleep again.

Even naked, except for the thin cotton panties that clung limply to her skin, there was no escape from the heat. And with the heat, came no escape from the dream.

She was too tired to rinse out her mouth, to move from her knees. And she wasn't sure she wanted to. There was no where to go, except back to bed, and then, the dream would come again.

She bit her lip to bite back tears of exhaustion. She'd spent most of the past 24hrs trying to get a hold of Angel, warn him that something was up with Buffy, that she needed help. But no one was answering the phone. And when she'd tried to call Giles's apartment, his number had been disconnected.

If anyone would have investigated her dreams, it would have been Giles. The Sunnydale gang may not trust her, but Giles knew better than to ignore a Slayer's dreams.

Didn't he?

And where was he ? Where was Angel ? Did anyone know what was going on ? How close Buffy was to the edge ? What she was doing ?

What good was it that she knew, when she was stuck behind miles of concrete, bars and electric fencing.

What the hell was going on, that a girl could come back from the dead, and her crew think everything was 5 x 5. Why wasn't anyone beside the vampire talking to her ?

Faith lay her head against the cool rim of the bowl, and closed her eyes for a moment. 'Gotta help B'. But she was so tired. Maybe, maybe if she sat here for a moment, she would think of something.

 

=*=

 

_The building was on it's last legs, a half slumped crumble of masonry, iron and wood. Faith peered through the dust cloud debris at two forms ahead of her._

"B ?"

The blonde Slayer turned in Spike's arms smiling, with a simple shrug, she pushed him aside, not noticing when he crumpled in the background, a man shaped pile of dust and leather clothing.

"Faith, I've been waiting."

"Waiting ?"

"For you. You understand, don't you, I need someone to show me."

"Show you ? You're not making sense B."

Soft lips skimmed her own, a cool pink tongue teasing at entry.

Faith found herself lost in it, the golden light pouring through that mouth into hers; sweet, like orange juice and good dreams.

Buffy moaned, pulling her lips back, as her body moved to fit closer, legs between legs, hands clasped, fingers entwined.

"Show me ?"

The building rumbled, support beams shifting dangerously.

Warm hands were ripped from hers, pulled away into darkness.

A shape appeared in the floor.

A fetid pool, dark and sluggish. It's surface hinting at severed limbs and lost faces.

"How do I swim Faith ? Show me how to swim.....Faith ! Help me!"

" B !"

Faith reached out, trying to scramble to the water's edge, to hold on, to help, to do something...anything.

"B !"


End file.
